


"But you feel like you belong."

by confusedTraveler



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusedTraveler/pseuds/confusedTraveler
Summary: The MSPA Reader finally finds their way home.
Relationships: MSPA Reader & Stelsa Seyzat, MSPA Reader & Tyzias Entykk, Tyzias Entykk/Stelsa Sezyat
Comments: 20
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OneThreateningAcronym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneThreateningAcronym/gifts).



> Title is from the ending line of [Monachopsis.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877720)

“bruisedays are the _wwwworst_.”

“zizi, don’t you say that about every day?”

Tyzias scoffs, shoving her hands deeper into her hoodie pockets, somehow managing to slouch even further into the garment than she’d been already.

“listen. the other days of the wwwwipe at least have the decency to _try_ ,” she states, matter-of-factly, voice already sliding automatically into “legal mode”, in spite of how gravelly with fatigue she knows she must sound. “wwwwith bruisedays you just have to give up. there’s too mmmmuch precedent to mmmmerit even attemmmmpting to mmmmake the best of it. you just have to get through it.”

“well i rather like bruisedays.”

“of course _you_ do.”

“i’ve found clients usually prefer to meet at the beginnings and ends of wipes which i must agree makes an awful lot of sense i mean it’s just so much more satisfying and what better day than the first day of the wipe after all the sooner things get audited the better and besides i _love_ being able to finish everything early in the week so i have more time to spend with you.” Stelsa rambles, gently swinging her and her matesprit’s clasped hands together as they walk. Her voice, though lively and melodious as always, is quieter in the pre-dawn light, belying her weariness after a long night of meetings and paperwork. “and oh that reminds me my darling would you perhaps like to join me for a trip to the theater after your legal methods exam this endsday you see one of my clients canceled and i find myself rather free that night.”

“wwwwhat, like a date or sommmmething?” the other tealblood jokes, a teasing lilt to her voice. She lets go of her matesprit’s hand only link their arms instead, tugging her closer as they amble down the sidewalk. At this late hour, the streets are quiet, most having retired to their hives several hours earlier, save for a few. Though Tyzias Entykk has a lot of very unfavorable opinions regarding early-morning classes, the walks home she gets to share with Stelsa are, admittedly, quite nice. The dense, anticipatory dark of pre-dawn has a certain coziness to it. It’s nice to imagine, if only for a moment, that nothing exists outside of this— no injustice, no terror, just the feeling of safety and warmth that comes with the sound of her girlfriend’s voice and the warmth of her shoulder where Tyzias’ cheek is leaned against it. But alas, as the ancient proverb goes, the world is a fuck. On Bruisedays, especially.

“mmmm…wwwwe’ll see” the teal answers eventually. “the others mmmmight wwwwant to go out after the exammmm, but chances are wwwwe’ll be sick of each other’s faces after all those study sessions.” She laughs, a light and genuine sound, one that Stelsa hasn’t heard in a long while. “sure. it’s a date.”

Stelsa grins, bloodpusher fluttering madly as she gazes fondly at her partner’s face. Without missing a beat or even needing to look down, she whips out her palmhusk using the hand not immobilized by Tyzias and begins entering the event into her calendar, setting no less than fifteen alerts and color-coding it red. “perfect i’ll buy the tickets now then and get us good seats and make a list of snacks to sneak in and oh what time does your exam end?”

A heavy sigh, accompanied by a half shrug. “they _said_ 10, but wwwwho even knowwwws.”

“11, then.” Perfectly-manicured fingers fly across the tiny keyboard. “do you want me to pick you up or do you—"

The teals are suddenly interrupted on their nightly walk back to the apartment from work by a sudden burst of heat and flame not two feet ahead of them.

The two leap back on reflex. Stelsa, the faster of the two, instinctively throws out one arm to shield her matesprit from the explosion, bracing herself for the surely-inevitable burns to come. She can feel the blazing light grow in intensity, prickling against her closed eyelids. However, she feels no pain, no telltale feeling of being burned. Hesitantly, while still backing steadily away, she cracks open one eyelid to squint at the thing ahead of her.

Ahead of them on the sidewalk, the phenomenon seems to be a swirling mass of pure light, a blazing white supernova somehow localized to an area about three feet wide. It’s still painfully bright, but to her surprise, the— explosion? fire?— appears to now be dimming after the initial burst. The light source seems almost to be collapsing in on itself, as though being radiated in reverse from the initial center point. When it dims a bit more, she sees that the shape is haloed in ribbons of lime-green fire, leaping and arcing as the light concentrates itself into the shape of a bright white ball.

One more burst of light that sends her eyelids slamming shut, and then- nothing.

Both tealbloods realize it at the same time. The bright glow seen pressing on the outsides of their bulblids vanishes. A cautious opening of eyes reveals that the dark has returned, with no trace of any explosion or fire ever being there.

Well, almost no evidence.

There’s a shape, right over where the ball of flame appeared. As she blinks rapidly to assuage the stinging in her corneas and restore her vision, the first thing Tyzias sees is a dark lump. She squints at it, startling back when she thinks she sees the shape _move_ a little. She flinches, and feels Stelsa’s arms tighten around her in response.

A beat.

The shape moves again, and this time, Tyzias hears what sounds unmistakably like a pained whimper.

Tyzias suddenly feels very aware of how hard her bloodpusher is pounding. Even as the pulse begins to slow, she feels each individual beat resounding in the marrow of her bones. The sound vibrates through her thinkpan, and with it is an accompanying _pull_ , something that makes her slowly extricate herself from Stelsa’s arms and take a hesitant step towards the figure collapsed on the sidewalk.

She can practically _hear_ her common sense screaming at her to stop, to go back, to run away. This isn’t something she was meant to see. She isn’t supposed to be here.

But that _other_ part of her, the part that burns in her blood and sings in a voice she does not recognize but whose songs she knows all the words to, says instead: _go to them._

And she does.

Stelsa watches, frozen, from about ten feet away as her matesprit walks towards the shape on the sidewalk and kneels beside it, back facing her. A moment passes. Then, Tyzias stands and turns around, _something_ cradled in her arms. She stares wordlessly back at Stelsa, and the look in her eyes is something so unfamiliar that her matesprit almost takes a step back. Instead, however, she feels compelled to come closer, to meet that still, too-full gaze with her own terrified one.

“it’s alright,” Tyzias says, and Stelsa, despite the nameless fear she feels tightening her throat, believes her.

The thing cradled in her matesprit’s arms is person-shaped, at least. All familiarity stops and ends there. There’s a certain _wrongness_ to how it’s shaped— limbs too simple and straight, head a perfect sphere. Its body is a bright, artificial white, almost completely uniform in shade. Like a child’s drawing, or perhaps a puppet.

It also appears to be wearing nothing but a worn-out hoodie with a faded cerulean sign on the front, which might somehow be the most confusing thing of all. Stelsa finds herself squinting on it out of habit, trying to make out the shape.

There’s another whimpering sound, and her eyes dart back up to its face. The thing appears to still be unconscious, but the way its sleeping face is twisted suggests unease. Both teals feel a pang of platonic pity at the sight.

Tyzias breaks the strange silence. “wwwwe should help themmmm. wwwwhoever they are, if the drones find themmmm…”

She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. Stelsa nods, numbly.

Neither of them mentions the strange feeling of compulsion they feel when looking at the person, nor the feeling of _correctness_ that comes with their decision to protect the stranger. It feels right in a way neither can quite put into words, and so, they don’t.

The remainder of their walk home ensues in total silence. Tyzias holds the small person in her arms with care as they walk. For such a small body, they radiate a lot of heat, she notes, warmth seeping into her hands and arms. The rise and fall of their chest remains steady, but their expression looks pained. The sight makes Tyzias feel… uncomfortable, moreso than she’d expect. Maybe it’s just the fatigue doing weird things to her thinkpan.

They make it past the threshold of the apartment just as the first beams of sun breach the horizon. Stelsa kicks off her shoes with a loud sigh of relief, stretching her arms above her head to relieve the lingering stiffness in her back and shoulders. A sharp inhalation catches her attention, and she turns in the direction of the sound.

Tyzias is kneeling by the loungeplank, where she’d just laid the stranger on their back. Only a few moments later, however, their eyelids began fluttering. As she watches, their pupils roll in her direction, and they blink up at her, visibly confused.

“hey, it’s alright.” Tyzias finds herself saying. Wouldn’t want them to panic. “you’re safe. howwww do you…feel?”

The stranger’s eyes widen, and they burst into tears.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing you register is the feeling of being carried. It’s not a totally unfamiliar one; a few of your more affectionate friends have been known to scoop you up from time to time.

It’s been a long, _long_ time since you’ve had that experience, though— or, at least, what _feels_ like a long time? It’s been a _while_ since you’ve experienced some semblance of linear time.

And even _that_ doesn’t make sense, because just how long is “a while”? You guess it’s probably just based off your internal clock and whatever _you_ feel like is a long time, but even so, does that even work the same way now that you’re a Guardian? Teleporting around was one thing, but teleporting _and_ being immortal (???) just means that time has even less of a hold over you than it did before, since it can’t physically age you.

 _But,_ at the same time, you’re always gaining new memories and experiences, so that’s _some_ kind of a forward progression, right? Can memories be units of time? What’s the conversion rate for that, exactly? But also, wait, experience and age don’t always align, huh. Different people, different lives. That’s not even beginning to factor in the effects of trauma on a person.

Wait a minute, hold on, how old _are_ you, actually?

Okay, you know what, fuck it. No more thinking. This is giving you even more of a migraine than you have already. Which, _ow._

You attempt to relax back into the arms of the person carrying you and do your best to ignore the migraine drilling into your skull. So much for any immortality instant-healing bullshit.

The carrying motions stop after a while (shut UP, it’s been a while if you SAY it’s been a while, okay?), and the next thing you feel is a heavenly softness cradling your body. You melt into it immediately. It’s been a while since you’ve had a comfortable sleep.

The soft surface beneath has a slight scent to it, something crisp and clean and somehow nostalgic. Where have you smelled that before? This all feels…familiar. You attempt to ignore the jackhammering at your temples and crack your eyes open to get a better look at your surroundings.

What you see makes you breath catch in your throat.

_Tyzias…?_

She looks exactly as you remember her- the thick-rimmed glasses that slide precariously forward as she leans over to look at you, the stout, square horns protruding from a messy head of hair, the deep lines beneath her eyes. As your eyes meet hers, you see shock, followed by concern.

Is it really her? You’re not dreaming? Your eyes dart to and fro, taking in the surroundings. The apartment’s changed a little since you last saw it— new wallpaper, nice— but it’s all still so familiar. You feel another shock when your eyes fall on another familiar face— standing a few feet behind Tyzias, there’s Stelsa, eyes wide.

No way. Did it actually _work?_ Is this- are you- did you actually _make_ it this time? All those failures, that terrifying sight of a yawning void where your friends and family should be— is that all over now?

“you’re safe”, you hear Tyzias say, and that about does it for you. You hear yourself let out a loud, awful sob, followed by another, and another.

This isn’t how you wanted your reunion to go, but you can’t stop yourself. It feels as though a massive, crushing weight has been lifted. All that time searching and pushing your new power to the limits, seeking out that one specific place and time in Alternia’s history. Even without the Director’s influence keeping you from getting there, it had still taken… a while. No, **_too long_.** Far, far too long, so long that you thought you’d never make it, that you’d fucked up irredeemably and lost them forever.

At this point you’re just bawling into the sleeve of your hoodie. A small, snide part of you comments something along the lines of “some god _you_ are”, but it’s entirely drowned out by the wave of utter happiness and relief washing over you.

You finally made it home.

You hear a sound like fabric shifting, and then there are arms around you, pulling you into a familiar embrace. “there there dear it’s alright you’re safe no need to worry” Stelsa utters in a stream of rapid-fire reassurances while also very quickly patting your back. “it’s fine now let it out don’t hold back you’ll be fine”

In response, you clutch onto her for dear life. You’re aware your tears are probably soaking into her coat, but it’s fine. You’re a god, you can probably fix that. Probably.

I missed you both so much, you say, when you’ve managed to calm down a little. I thought I’d never see you again.

Stelsa pulls back from the hug just enough so she can look you in the eye. Rather than joy, what you see reflected in her expression is stark confusion.

“i don’t mean to sound rude perhaps my memory isn’t what it used to be and it’s been a very long day but i don’t believe we know each other?”

Your world freezes.

Not literally, although that’s something you could probably figure out how to do, given practice. However, in that moment, all that happens is that you find yourself gawking at a woman who, you now realize, sees you as a stranger. A stranger who she embraced and comforted without even knowing _why_ they broke down in the first place, and without knowing she herself was one of the causes for said breakdown.

How- why doesn’t she- who-

Oh. _Oh. That_ fuckhead did this, didn’t he. If he wasn’t already dead, you’d be kicking his flimsy puppet ass right about now.

Your stomach churns unpleasantly as realization after realization crashes through your mind. If _he_ did this, and it’s still in effect even with him gone, then it might be permanent. It could be that none of them remember you and never will again.

 _No._ No, this can’t—there _has_ to be a way to undo it. You have the same powers as him now, right? You should, theoretically, be able to fix this.

Unless, of course, you can’t. Unless you forfeited the right to see your friends again the moment you touched that little glowing house in Scratch’s house, and the new reality in which you now exist is one in which you and your friends have truly never met.

You realize that perhaps the yawning abyss you’d seen the first time might have been the kinder alternative to the reality you’re facing right now.

With perhaps more force than intended, you push yourself away from Stelsa’s embrace and back away, needing to be as far away as possible from that confused, unrecognizing stare. You can’t do this, you _can’t_. You can’t _be_ here. This isn’t right. None of this is.

Scrubbing furiously at your stained face with your sleeve, you force out some half-assed excuses. It’s ok, I’m fine, you say. I just gotta- I need to-

You look around wildly for an escape, avoiding both teals’ gazes. Just gotta—gotta get out of their sight, then teleport out. This isn’t where you were meant to be. You spot the front door and stumble towards it, grabbing for the doorknob. It’s probably close to morning, but it’s fine, you can stand the heat for a few seconds, just have to—

Then someone else says something, so quietly that you don’t quite perceive it at first. When it registers a second later, your hand goes slack and slips off the doorknob.

Your name. Your _real_ name.

The sound of it cracks through you like a lightning bolt. You spin around, eyes darting wildly as you search for the source.

Tyzias looks just as shocked as you feel, eyes fixed on your face. She repeats the name, this time as a question. “that’s you, right?” she adds, sounding breathless.

You nod, violently. Yes, you blurt out. Where did you hear it? Do you- I- I don’t understand-

A hand gently but firmly _paps_ your cheek, startling you into silence. You’re made to look directly into Tyzias’ eyes.

“listen. i don’t knowwww if this mmmmakes sense, but…” her eyes look away from yours for a moment, only to return with burning intensity. “i knowwww you. i don’t remmmmemmmmber you, but i knowwww you, and you knowwww mmmme _._ right?”

You open your mouth to shout _YES_ , but what comes out is a strangled half-sob, half-laugh.

Her face positively lights up, before settling into something more thoughtful. “wwwwhy can’t i remmmmemmmmber you? i knowwww i should, but…” she trails off.

It’s a long story, you manage to get out. A long _fucking_ story, and I can’t wait to tell you about it. (Your head throbs again.) Later. _Later._

She must notice you swaying, because she pulls you in for an embrace. You cling to her like the world is ending. Stelsa throws her arms around the both of you, and you all sink to the floor as one, tangled in each other’s arms.

“wwwwe’ll figure it out, i prommmmise.” Tyzias murmurs close to your ear.

And you will. You’re going to find whatever it was that bald, pasty asshole did to your friends and you are going to scrub it from reality until no trace of him remains. This is YOUR reality, and you are going to make sure that no one can steal your loved ones away from you ever again.

It’ll probably take time, but hey, as you’ve already established, time really isn’t too much of an issue anymore.

But for now, you allow yourself to sink into your friends’ embrace and tell yourself it’s going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I choose to believe that the version of the universe that exists within the Locked Timeline is one in which Doc Scratch no longer exists, owing to MSPAR having consumed all the Green Sun’s power. After all, it was mentioned that Bec had been acting more like a normal dog, so wouldn’t Scratch have become a lifeless puppet? Anyways, fuck that guy. 
> 
> In my mind, the way things works out is that all MSPAR’s friends begin to slowly regain their lost memories not too long after Scratch loses his powers. Tyzias and Stelsa being Blood-bound helped them realize they knew MSPAR already, but the others would have realized it too, albeit more gradually.


End file.
